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HONORABLE MENTION PERSONAL RECOLLECTION MEMORIES OF A SHEPHERD BOY FROM WALES 2850 Monroe Blvd. Ogden, Utah 84403 The little gray donkey I had been leading down the feet helplessly'in the air and on her back in a mahogany bush, groaning and pleading for help. A heavy pack of sheep camp equipment was securely bound with ropes and straps to the pack saddle and to her back. been skillfully trained in the art of moving camp. The pack had to be evenly distributed, carefully balanced and securely tied with ropes using proper knots and hitches. My younger brother, Lawrence, was moving the sheep. It almost vertically deep, rugged basin. There was no trail, so I had to simply feel my way with the rifle in one hand and the rope in the other. It was about three miles from the old camp to where the new one was to be. I had easy traveling along s plateau to the edge of the basin, A much longer route I could nave taken, but sznce nightfall was coining on, I chose the shorter and more hazardous way. As we moved slowly down the mountain, low-growing vegetation with a sprinkling of ma hocany bushes made the ing each step. About a third of the way down the slope, foot into the rope halter. At this moment, I looked back and saw the donkey rolling end over end coming directly toward me. 1 leaped and barely missed being crushed. Down the rugged steep slope she went, gaining speed. I cause there was still a distance of at least one quarter of a mile to the bottom. I had no idea how many times she rolled, but suddenly she came to a stop in the mahogany bush. Looking down the hill, I could not deter- soon be dead. The wet ropes and straps had beconte so |
